The overwhelming generosity of the following group of people has made it possible for me to say “Yes! I’m making a new album!” Their combined support over the past month and a half through my fundraising project on Kickstarter has allowed me to raise the required funding, and I could not be more appreciative.
So, ladies and gentlemen, my new album “One Good Day” was made by the following people. In no particular order, the Official Backers are:
About a month ago, I played a show with Adrian Bourgeois in Austin, and he brought with him something that I had never seen, but something that had truly changed my life when I was a teenager (and up until this day). Adrian’s dad, Brent Bourgeois, worked at Word Records at the time I started singing, and ended up signing me to the label in 2000. Anyway, long story short, Adrian gave me the demo that had landed on his dad’s desk about 12 years ago. Basically, the demo that started it all.
I thought it was pretty freaking cool to see exactcopy that was listened to and that led to me signing with the label. And not only did he give me the demo, there was still a note attached to the cover from the publisher, Shari Saba, to Brent:
It says “Brent, As per–no picture yet, but one can be obtained if you like this. She supposedly “looks the part”. 15 years old. Let me know ASAP“.
I find this hilarious because at 15 the only “part” I looked ready to play was that of a competitive eating champion. Ha. Apparently I cleaned up real nice.
So, this has just been really inspiring to kind of look back to what went on in my life ten years ago, when something so unexpected happened, and realize that truly anything is possible. Cheeeeeeze. But true. And as I get set to record my fourth album, I feel encouraged and hopeful and inspired to just write the music I love because I love it, like I did in the very beginning. And if there’s room out there on someone’s desk for a copy, so be it.
Dog Parenting Ronald, that’s not your toy! Drop it. Drop it now! Give it back this instant, Ronald. I’m so sorry about this, he’s never this way. Well, I know, but he should know better. Ronald! Don’t you walk away from me. Bad dog. Bad!
Dollar Store Figurines
So incredibly strange. I understand making a trip to ye olde dollar store to pick up gag gifts, random cheap cleaning supplies, or a Mylar birthday balloon. But have you seen the figurine aisle? It must be a 99 cent store rule to have shelves upon shelves of crystal dolphins, rip off versions of Precious Moments angels, wooden fishermen (with dangling fish), and inspirational quotes engraved on brass plaques. King Dollar and the like might be the only places where you can pick up a White Elephant gift that is actually a white elephant (made of plaster, of course). On top of the bizarreness factor, many of the figurines are damaged, which makes for a display full of conspicuously missing ears, angels with one wing, and headless Roman goddesses. I’m not sure who, if anyone, is led to purchase such items, and I do apologize if you, the reader, have partaken in such activity. As for me, I’ll grab some cheap scrunchies and call it a day.
Candy Corn
On my personal hierarchy of sweets, candy corn are at the top. Mainly because they are pointy.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it. Anything you want to, do it! Want to change the world? There’s nothing to it.
Gene Wilder or an old sage? You be the judge. Then again, the oompa loompas add a disturbing new dimension to the problem, don’t they?
Coffeeshops, Distractions At The
What can possibly be accomplished in an environment where mochas are grinding, friends are talking behind each other’s backs, and music is eerily similar to Phoebe’s Smelly Cat? Something, I’m sure. But certainly not studying.
First lesson learned in the UT College of Communication: Bottled water is a perfect example of the power of advertising. Think about it. Marketers convinced consumers that an otherwise free product is worth paying for quoth the raven (a raven named Professor Wilcox). Wow, I thought. He’s right! What kind of career am I getting myself into? Selling people things that are free? How devious! But after much reflection, I began to see the other side. It’s semi-common knowledge that tap water not only tastes like chemicals, it actually contains them. So, yes, there is a taste difference. Plus, when one starts to imagine the journey tap water takes through rusted, seventy-year-old pipes in order to spew out of her faucet, she might reconsider gulping down a glass full. But is it worth the wasteful plastic and money spent when you can get it free of charge? Who knows? To each his own. Just don’t be surprised when they (I?) start selling bottled air.
Bizarre Words
The words pizzeria and diarrhea sound way too similar.
Arkansas, Smackover
Growing up, my family would visit my great grandmom in Smackover, Arkansas every Thanksgiving. For seventeen years we made the journey, and every fourth Thursday in November since my grandmom’s passing, I miss being surrounded by family and angel food cake inside of her home that was built by her husband’s hands. I miss the cornbread covered in pancake syrup that my granddaddy would make in the morning. I miss playing tag in the dark with flashlights. I miss making ornaments out of styrofoam and sequins with my mom and aunts. I miss catching tadpoles with my brother, and my grandparents telling us that that was how my dad, Tad, got his name. I miss being five and losing to my grandmother at Scrabble when she played the undefeatable word dogma. I miss aiming the .22 at old Tab bottles, praying I’d hit the mark. I miss watching in awe as my dad’s rock skipped in and out of the water 10 times across the open lake. I miss being called “city folk” by old Mr. Sneed, the neighbor. I miss going into Town Square and painting plaster plates. I miss fishing in Mrs. Thomas’ lake. I miss hanging up my grandmom’s Christmas decorations the day before we headed back home. And, more than anything, I miss my grandmom.
It is quite early in the H-town, and I have arisen to prepare for an interview today. And by prepare, I mean I’ve woken up after four hours of attempted sleep that was interrupted hourly by anxious thoughts of the event, sat down with my fifth cup of coffee to prepare my mind for the impending conversations, and ultimately decided that writing something, anything at all, would be a great way to prepare for an interview that is centered around my ability to write. So here I am, pounding on the Powerbook keys, hoping the nervous anticipation will dissipate. Alas, that has yet to happen.
On another note, I’ve decided to post a project that was completed during my final semester at UT. If you haven’t read Amy Rosenthal’s Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life, I highly recommend. She chronicles her “ordinary life”, and it comes alphabetized and all with charts, tables, etc. It’s ridiculously entertaining, and we were asked to duplicate Rosenthal’s book (using our own lives, of course) in my Copywriting Seminar last fall. So, here is entry #1. Let’s start from the very beginning – a very good place to start! (oh, and MAJOR props if you caught that reference).
A
After-The-Fact, Things I’m Glad I Did Working out. Going to the dentist. Reading a book. Skipping the carrot cake. Speaking the truth. Cleaning the apartment. Staying in for the night. Enduring college. Hand writing a letter. Backing up the hard drive. Making up the bed. Shaving my legs. Deciding not to procrastinate. Straightening my hair. Waking up with the sun. Taking a risk. Washing the dishes. Doing something when bored. Doing nothing when bored.
Edison’s light bulb story is so overtold, its message hardly resonates anymore. Have you heard? He didn’t get it wrong one thousand times, he found one thousand ways that weren’t right! Easy to say, once you’ve gotten it right, Edi. I joke, I joke. Because in truth I am a firm believer that “failure” is relative, and without risking, nothing great can be accomplished in the first place. Edison is certainly not the only one to preach the Sermon of Failure. Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers is a whole book about it. Well, it’s actually about success, but can’t help but compare accomplishments to setbacks. My personal conclusion thus far in life is this: failure is unavoidable, tis true. And our handling of life’s hurdles certainly affects whether or not we one day make it to the podium. The better you are at failing, the better you are at succeeding. Attempt more, fail more, but succeed more as well.
So, just for kicks, I’d like to outline failures in my life. There have certainly been successes along the way as well, I should say (so I don’t sound like a Negative Nancy). But why not admit to things that haven’t gone our way? In fact, a longer list of failures should almost certainly correspond to a long list of successes. Many many more belong on this list, but it’s a good start:
Events That Led To Unfortunate Outcomes
Failure #1: Rejected from the school talent show in kindergarden. Performance of “Taco Joe”, a piano song consisting of three chords, found to be inadequate.
Failure #2: Considered too young for competitive softball program. Demoted to “C” team.
Failure #3: Fifth grade boyfriend announces his desire to be just friends.
Failure #4: Inability to control Cheeto intake leads to adolescent weight gain.
Failure #5: Rejected from high school volleyball team due to height disadvantage.
Failure #6: High school softball team makes it to State, but gets Runner-up. Twice.
Failure #7: Christian music career shows signs that it might, but never quite does, take off.
Failure #8: L.A. record companies hesitate to sign due to “similarities to Avril and Michelle Branch”. Attempts to persuade otherwise fall upon tone deaf ears.
Failure #9: Received a horrible, cheap haircut from a street vendor on the Santa Monica Promenade.
Failure #10: Allowed myself to obsess over all of the above for far too long.
New songs are always funny. They come unexpectedly, suddenly, and at odd hours. I woke up last Tuesday at 5:00a.m., sat down to learn Beyonce’s “All The Single Ladies” for my side project Acoustic Radio, and was instantly struck with the inspiration to write. The lyrics and music were completed in full by 5:36a.m., and I immediately began recording. The resulting song is below, using my first pass as the final version (with some backgrounds thrown in for good measure!). I find it much more meaningful to share the song as it was captured during its moment of creation than to rehash the thing to death, no?
Oh, and an important side note: After writing and sitting in admiration of my work, I realized that the concept of song was not completely my own. “The Ocean or the Shore” speaks of life’s many uncertainties, and it attempts to compare one’s journey into the unknown to the fact that we’re not sure if we’re walking toward the ocean or toward the shore. But, after my twelfth cup of coffee, I thought to myself, “I feel like I’ve heard something like this before”. Oh no! And then it struck me, so now a shout out is needed. My very talented friend Adrian Bourgeois sent me some demos of his new material a while back, and I believe it is a song called “Jonah” that uses a similar comparison. “I cannot tell if I am swimming to or from the shore” is, I think, how it goes. So Adrian, to copy is the highest form of flattery, yes? Well said, and I hope you don’t feel that you have been robbed and will not mind me sharing this unique insight with the world! And one final shout out. If it weren’t for “All the Single Ladies”, this song very well may not have existed. So, though I never could’ve imagined an occasion for me to say such a thing, thanks be to Beyonce!
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The Ocean or the Shore
By Paige Lewis 2010, Cry Holy Music (ASCAP)
I got a thing for the meantime
I got a knack for between time
I’m pretty cool with the great unknown
I can be fine with the unseen
I really like a good mystery
I’m pretty good with the great unknown
But I never thought it’d be quite like this
Does anybody really know what they’re getting in for
I never thought it’d be quite like this
Does anybody really know if they’re walking in toward
The ocean or the shore
I want to know where the past flies
I never said my goodbyes
Watching it drift way out of sight
I’ve never seen such a sunset
I’ve never felt such an upset
Watching it disappear tonight
But I never thought it’d be quite like this
Does anybody really know what they’re getting in for
I never thought it’d be quite like this
Does anybody really know if they’re walking in toward
The ocean or the shore
Raise my hand I’ve got a question
Why aren’t there any answers
No signposts in the sand to point the way to land, no
I guess maybe that’s the lesson
There’s never any answers
I better be prepared to swim or stand
I never thought it’d be quite like this
Does anybody really know what they’re getting in for
I never thought it’d be quite like this
Does anybody really know if they’re walking in toward
I saw my shadow today, a day early. Actually, I saw my reflection. Or perhaps it was more like a projection. I don’t know what I saw, but it looked something like hope that the winter will end soon. It looked something like a promise that everything will be okay – that all we need to do to get through life’s uncertainties is to keep walking. It appeared to be something like encouragement to move forward across the frozen lake and trust the ice is stable enough to hold us. Then again, it also kind of looked like my shadow.
